


the blind eye of the storm

by badskeletonpuns



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Angst, Capcom - Freeform, F/F, Feelings, minlace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8779360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskeletonpuns/pseuds/badskeletonpuns
Summary: Inspired by a piece by harpers_mirror, linked in fic notes. There's an accident on board the Hepaestus, and Minkowski almost got killed, like you do. Lovelace deals with the fact that she cares more than she probably should about this.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [shallow nonsense is my job description (one-shots vol. 1)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6462781) by [harpers_mirror (SapphireBryony)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBryony/pseuds/harpers_mirror). 



> This fic was inspired by [Chapter Fifteen](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6462781/chapters/18355294) of "shallow nonsense is my job description", but doesn't require that to be read beforehand.

Lovelace still couldn’t stop shaking. 

Hours had passed since Minkowski had almost been sucked into the vacuum of space. Lovelace had busied herself with permanently mending the hull, fixing whatever had been broken by the most recent round of explosions and those things that were still broken from the previous round of explosions. 

She kept seeing that image in her head.

Minkowski, silhouetted against the void, clad in nothing but her uniform jumpsuit rolled down to the waist and a white t-shirt spotted with grease and scorch marks. Her hair like a red-gold halo around her and her body deathly still. 

Lovelace didn’t really believe in much of anything anymore.

But she knew that if Minkowski had died there, that image of her suspended in front of the endless field of stars would have haunted Lovelace worse than any ghost. 

She couldn’t afford to care for Minkowski this much - she didn’t want to leave her side, making up a series of increasingly nonsensical excuses to keep working together until late into the artificial night. It was making her less efficient. Less likely to make the difficult choices.    
  


“Please tell me that was the last job you could possibly think of to do, Lovelace,” Minkowski sighed as she slid the toolbox back into its wall compartment and clicked the latch shut. “We have had a  _ very _ long day today, and I think we could both use the sleep.” 

“You can sleep if you have to,” Lovelace conceded, “but I need to keep working.” 

“Lovelace.” When Lovelace looked up from the plans she was holding, Minkowski was floating closer to her than she’d expected with her arms folded and looking more than a little exasperated. “Look, you might think you’re invincible, but I know you’re just as human as the rest of us. You need sleep.” Her gaze softened for a moment, and she reached out to touch Lovelace’s shoulder. “It can wait till morning, Isabel. I promise.” 

The corner of Lovelace’s mouth twitched as she hid a grin. “You’re just calling me Isabel to guilt me into sleeping with you.” 

“Would it help if I assured you it was nothing more than sleep and  _ also  _ reminded you that I almost died today?” 

A real grin, now, one that Lovelace didn’t have the energy to disguise. “Renée, you tease. What’s the fun if it’s nothing more than sleep?” 

Minkowski ducked her head to hide a matching smile. “The fun is getting the advised amount of sleep in Pryce and Carter’s -”   
  


“If you quote Pryce and Carter I will never sleep with you again.” 

“And you think that would bother me?” Minkowski asked. She shoved Lovelace lightly, still smiling. “You’re incorrigible.” 

Lovelace smirked. “Only because I know it  _ would  _ bother you.” Before Minkowski dropped her hand to her side, Lovelace reached out to catch it and tug the other woman closer. “Hey. Are you okay?”

Minkowski shook her head, the motion dislodging more of her hair from its messy bun. The strands floated through the air like filaments of copper wire, sharp enough to cut if Lovelace tried to touch them. Lovelace reached out to brush it back behind Minkowski’s ear anyway, because the threat of injury had never stopped her before. Minkowski floated unmoving save for her breathing and the slightest tilt of her head into Lovelace’s hand. “I should be asking you, that, you know,” she murmured. 

“I don’t know,” Lovelace mused, letting her hand linger on Minkowski’s face. “You  _ were _ the one who almost died today, as you so kindly reminded me just moments ago. That deserves an ‘are you okay’, or at the very least, a concerned glance.” Her thumb brushed Minkowski’s lips, and the commander of the Hephaestus closed her eyes and breathed in and out, in and out. 

Minkowski’s eyelids fluttered as Lovelace let her hand slide until she was holding onto her chin.

“Isabel…” she said, her voice breaking on the threshold of a warning mere moments away from being ignored. 

Lovelace drew Minkowski forward slowly, pausing just before their lips met. Minkowski opened her eyes then, and her gaze was dark with desire. 

“Isabel,” she whispered again, and tipped her head forward to let their lips meet. 

It was gentle. Minkowski’s lips were softer than Lovelace had expected, and she tasted faintly of vanilla chapstick. 

The kiss abruptly stopped being gentle when Minkowski got her hands in Lovelace’s hair and  _ pulled _ , tilting Lovelace’s head back and biting down on her lower lip. Lovelace unintentionally whined. It was almost inaudible with Minkowski’s mouth still on hers, swallowing the sound as well as any shred of whatever dignity Lovelace had previously had. 

Minkowski pulled back slightly, just far enough to press a kiss to the corner of Lovelace’s (already kiss-reddened) lips and whisper, “Race you to my quarters.” She shoved away from Lovelace with no further warnings, and began to furiously propel herself down the corridor. 

Lovelace stood for a moment without moving. 

She wasn’t sure if she was  _ able _ to move. 

Then she shook herself out of the haze and began to shove herself down the hallway as fast as she could. She’d be damned if she’d lose to Minkowski now. 

(They both slept well that night, wrapped in each other's’ arms. Lovelace had  _ finally  _ stopped shaking somewhere around the time she’d collapsed onto Minkowski, satiated and worn out in the best possible way.)

**Author's Note:**

> 359th fic! whoo! this fandom has grown so much :')


End file.
